


What Is Love?

by SirenNightshade



Category: The Guild Codex: Demonized - Annette Marie
Genre: Demon/Human Relationships, F/M, I Love You, Interspecies Romance, POV First Person, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29957028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirenNightshade/pseuds/SirenNightshade
Summary: Post-epilogue.Zylas wants to know what "love" means. Robin explains.Note: very short and sweet. Literally.
Relationships: Robin Page/Zylas et Vh'alyir
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	What Is Love?

“What is ‘love’?” 

I paused in the midst of adding dollops of frosting to my latest batch of treats (fudge cubes), looking up at my demonic lover. 

A little dumbfounded that this word hadn’t translated for him, I checked, “You don’t know what love is?” 

“You said it before,” Zylas commented, “and I felt...your hurt and yearning and fear...loneliness,” he added in a murmur, thoughtful, “but there is no word for it in my tongue. What is it?” 

I paused, thinking of how to explain. In my mind, Myrrine’s words came to mind: _Love is pain and it is hope._

Zylas looked even more baffled. “Pain...and hope?” he checked, and I could feel his doubt and -- just starting -- annoyance. He didn’t think the way I’d said _love_ aligned with the words Myrrine had written. 

I best correct that, then. 

“Love is...” I started, hedging, memories swamped with visions of my parents. “Love is like a stronger version of caring. But...selfish and selfless at the same time. Love is ‘I care about you more than I care about myself.’ Um…” I paused, struggling over how to explain it. 

“I want to help carry your burdens,” I went on, “I want to see you succeed in everything you do. I want you to be happy and never sad, but if you’re sad, I’ll be sad with you. Love is sharing in sorrow and joy, in pain and pleasure, no matter the cost. 

_“Amavrah_ is a good comparison,” I added. “It’s ‘I choose you and I want you to choose me, too.’ Love is… ‘I feel what you feel.’ I want to give you everything you want. I want you there with me every day. I want to see you smile and feel your hand in mine, every second. I want to give you all of me and I want all of you, too. I never want to be apart from you. I want...I want to keep you safe, protect you, care for you, um... Love is...my life is incomplete...without you.” 

He stared at me, almost mesmerized, as I explained. And at the end, when my face burned and I could only look down shyly, he murmured, “It is a big thing,” his voice full of wonder. 

“The biggest,” I agreed. With difficulty, I forced myself to look up, meeting his gaze. “There are people who believe that love is _everything._ Like it...like there’s nothing greater or more pure or more meaningful,” I tried to explain at his curious look. “It’s like... _vayanin,_ but on the inside, all the time -- uh, when the person you love is around, I mean.” 

_That_ comparison had his eyes widening, thunderstruck. 

He’d been calling me _vayanin_ for months, after all. His thoughts raced and I caught his perspectives shifting, accounting for a sudden question: _Vayanin is love? Have I loved her for so long?_

Flushing hotter, I rushed on, “B-but that’s just my interpretation, based on how you explained it. I can’t know that for sure -- a-and given I couldn’t see in your head way back then, I have no way of confirming it. It’s just an opinion,” I insisted, then hurriedly returned to my confections. 

Aloud, he commented quietly, _“Amavrah_ is love?” 

I could only shrug; no matter how well he explained that word, it was still a word from a foreign language to me. 

“I couldn’t tell you that,” I offered. Adding more dollops, my actions controlled and precise, I continued, “I should add that there’s different kinds of love, too. There’s the love between friends and family, love for parents to their children, love for activities and hobbies and pets, love for yourself, and...love between two people...who’ve become each other’s whole world,” I finished in a whisper. 

His response was immediate. No hesitation, no pause, no confusion or taking moments to process the concept. He came around the counter to me, tilted my head back with a finger under my chin, and kissed me. Unbidden, a thought crossed my mind: 

_Love is never wanting to kiss anyone else’s lips but yours._

He made a sound, deep in his chest. It was so similar to a growl, but softer, gentler, more like a purr. He withdrew, his crimson eyes hot on me, his pupils dilated to full circles. 

“Then I love Robin,” he murmured against my lips. 

My heart swelled in my chest, filling to bursting with love for him. Absently, my hands gripped the frosting tube too tight, the sugary semi-solid pouring out into a swirl on the tray. 

“Only me?” I heard myself squeak. 

He smiled, warmth and desire banked in every muscle. “A bargain,” he prompted; I straightened, focusing. “Swear to be mine, _amavrah,_ only mine, and I will swear the same to you.” 

_Easy._ Awkward though this much raw romance made me, for _this_ I had not a shred of doubt in my mind. 

“Zylas, I swear to be yours, only yours,” I told him firmly. 

His eyes glowed brighter, and I felt a surge of approval -- and relief? -- flow from him. Had he doubted I would say it? _Zh’ūltis._

Pulling me into him by my hips, he growled against my lips, “Robin, I swear to be yours, only yours.” 

I quivered and the tube of frosting popped in my hands, a seam tearing down the side. I felt it flowing over my fingers, sticking to my skin. 

He gave the tube one little glance, then met my gaze again, and I already knew what he was planning. I didn’t need to hear his thoughts for this. And, for once, I had no inclination to stop him. With the sweet treat coating my fingers, I lifted my hand in invitation. 

He licked the frosting off, then started sucking the remains from my fingers, his eyes briefly closing in bliss before opening and holding mine again, his gaze intense and arresting. My breathing deepened, heat coiling inside me. His hand slipped under the back of my shirt, lightly dragging his claws up my spine in the way that always had me shivering, and I lamented the fudge squares still sitting on the tray. 

They were going to be cold by the time we came back to them. 


End file.
